


Gunslinger

by revati



Series: Jason Todd: Renard [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Jason has been doing something else, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Slash, Rated for Jason's language?, Tim is the Second Robin, With other reasons to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-16
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 03:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/revati/pseuds/revati
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then the stranger smiled... a gorgeous smile, and Tim's knees almost buckled. Walking past him, the mechanic zeroed in on the R-Cycle. "She's beautiful, kid."</p><p>	Tim blinked, the haze of hormones clearing. "Kid?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I just realized I haven't put a disclaimer on any of my work in years. Needless to say, I own nothing.

            The R-Cycle had a flat.

            Two flats actually. Robin cursed as he pulled the bike out of the street. A sharp scream down by the docks was all he needed to know Batman had made it to the scene. He could focus on getting back to the Cave.

            With flat tires and bullet marks on the body of the bike.

            Nightwing might actually kill him.

            With several clicks, Tim switched the cycle to camouflage mode and pulled the backpack out of the trunk. He slipped into a navy blue hoodie and removed his domino, tucking it and his bo staff into the trunk. It was past midnight, and he was deep in East End. He'd have to move fast to avoid attracting unsavory attention.

            He locked the motorcycle to a fire escape and climbed up onto the roof, surveying, plotting the best course of action. This was his strength, cunning and wisdom culminated over years of chasing down the Dynamic Duo. Most of the neighborhood had closed down at the first gunfire. But one small hanging sign was still alight, blinking haphazardly _Millar's AutoBody Shop._

            Dropping down to street level, Robin dragged the R-Cycle to the shop's entrance. The light inside was rather poor, but enough to illuminate the one person closing up.

            "Hello?"

            The guy looked up and he had maybe a foot on Tim and was built like a tank. Tim was rethinking the wisdom of trying this place.

            The mechanic flipped on the main lights, and Tim blinked and stepped back unconsciously. He really couldn't have been more than twenty, but he was imposing even in the light. Covered in motor oil and grease, the man was wearing a sweat stained wife beater, threadbare jeans and worn sneakers. Grabbing the towel from around his neck, he scrubbed his face before turning to face Tim.

            "Aren't you on the wrong side of town?" His voice was low and strong and Tim could feel it smooth down his spine. He had striking blue eyes, high cheekbones and dark hair just short of messy, landing somewhere sexy and distracting.

            "U-um." Yes, very eloquent, Timothy.

            "Need me to call a cab for you? Though they tend to avoid this side of the city."

            "I, uh... I have a bike."

            The mechanic blinked and Tim could _feel_  his ears going red. "I mean, I just need new tires."

            Then the stranger smiled... a gorgeous smile, and Tim's knees almost buckled. Walking past him, the mechanic zeroed in on the R-Cycle. "She's beautiful, kid."

            Tim blinked, the haze of hormones clearing. "Kid?"

            He frowned in Tim's direction. "Don't try telling me your legal yet, short stuff."

            Well, that was true... but it couldn't hurt for the man to at least think he was close. 17 was close to legal. It had never been an issue what with being Robin since he was 11. He'd probably seen more of the world (and things out of this world) than this mechanic, hard and weathered as he looked, ever would.

            But he was playing an average teenager with two flat tires right now.

            The mechanic rolled the cycle into the garage, moving purposefully. Flipping several more switches, he maneuvered the bike onto a rising platform and locked it into place before taking a socket wrench to the lug nuts. He ignored Tim as he worked, and the Robin in Tim was grateful. If the guy hadn't questioned the dents, he probably wouldn't ask any probing questions. Teenage Timothy let his eyes trace over the muscles of the man's back and was upset.

            A faint buzz against his ear had Tim turning away and pulling out his phone, holding it over the commlink. "Hey B."

            [Where are you?]

            "I got a flat and found an open shop. I'll be home soon, promise." He inflected his Timothy Drake-Wayne voice, cautious of the stranger.

            Bruce grunted, [Be careful.] and hung up.

            Tim turned back around and found the mechanic lowering the R-cycle. Fumbling for his wallet, he produced a fifty but was waved off.

            "Save that for college. This one is on the house." He smiled again and Tim felt the blood rush to his face.

            "T-Thanks!" He stuttered, his voice cracking high at the end and more embarrassed, pulled the bike toward the exit.

            "A word of advice." The mechanic called back.

            Tim looked back.

            "Get better protection on those wheels. You leave that lying around these parts and some entrepreneurial little shit will steel them right off your ride." The smirk was far too knowing. Had this guy stolen tires when he was young?

            "Yeah, I'll look into that. Thanks, um...?" This time his voice remained steady enough for him to make the questioning noise.

            The mechanic's smirk slid into a smile. "Jason Todd."


	2. Chapter 2

            Jason counted the bills intently, aware of the pointed stare Darrel Alvarez leveled at him. Some wicked part of him reveled in the irritation on the man's face. Word around the Bowery was that Alvarez had turned his wife onto the street. Certainly Lisa shouldn't be sleeping in the homeless shelter given the brand new car her husband drove. Closing the register and locking it for good measure, Jason ignored the way the man snarled. He was itching to give the scum a good punch, but Lisa would be horrified.  

            Finally handing over the receipts, Jason kept his face bland. Alvarez snatched the paper out of his hand and stormed to his vehicle. With a particularly brutal slam of the door, he gunned the engine and tore out of the garage.

            A door closed more quietly and Jason looked up to see Mike. "What did you do, Todd?"

            Jason snorted, swinging his legs up onto the counter. "I refrained from putting the fucker's nose into his brain."

            His boss shook his head, his mouth dangerously close to smiling. "What's this I hear about you doing a job pro bono?"

            Jason blinked.

            A teenager stepped out from behind Mike, the kid from the previous night, dressed to impress and smiling down his fine nose. Jason had expected the kid to forget he existed, not come back and make trouble.

            "Well shit, Mike. You know the tire job was paid for. The money was in the cash box this morning when you checked." Jason stared at the kid and raised his eyebrows. The teenager looked away first, ducking his head.

            Mike sighed and shooed Jason out of the chair. "Take your break, Todd. And play nice."

            Jason restrained a growl as he got to his feet and grabbed the boy by the arm. Why did he have to play nice with a brat who might have schemed to get him in trouble with his boss? And considering the specs on his motorcycle, this kid was probably upper crust, exactly the kind of person Jason tended to dislike on principle.

            In the back room Jason pushed him into a chair and straddled another, staring the kid down, waiting. It was less of a back room, and more of a back cellar. All the extra parts were stored here leaving just enough room to squeeze through and the dim lights did not help.

            The kid went pink around the ears and fidgeted under Jason's eyes. Okay, it was pretty cute. And a little familiar now he thought about it. Where had he seen that before last night?

            A fifty was held out to him, the teen's blue eyes insistent. "I have enough in savings for college." His head raised regally, casting shadows over his eyes, his voice becoming more commanding than it had been last night and dipping just low enough to-

            It clicked. That faint blush, imperious stare, posture, and lithe body. Jason leaned forward, his mind racing, excited and anxious as his memory fit a domino mask over those bright blue eyes. "You're Tim Wayne, ain't'cha?"

            Tim clucked his tongue, frustration seeping from his eyes down his face. "Tim Drake-Wayne."

            Robin had grown since Jason had last seen him, though not much. There was no chance that Renard would ever not tower over the Boy Wonder, especially since Jason wasn't sure he was done growing. But this one was leagues smarter than the first Batbrat if rumor was to be believed. Jason would have to be careful in teasing out whether Robin had realized his former handle.

            Grinning, Jason leaned even closer, the chair lifting onto its back legs. "And what does the Prince of Gotham's latest charity case want with little old me?"

            "You're not little... or old." Robin went pinker, practically magenta and Jason let the chair fall back onto four legs. He might have tweaked that red nose otherwise.

            The kid hadn't answered the question, so Jason stood, returning his chair to the desk and opening the back door. Tim looked at him startled.

            "Far be it from me to tell you to spend your money, but let's put it to better use." Jason could kill two birds with one stone and keep his boss from learning about his former... job.

            Robin wound through the piles of supplies with an ease that left Jason jealous. He stepped into the sunlight behind him and closed the door.

            Jason wasted no time unchaining his wheels and tossing his spare helmet at Tim. Robin caught it on reflex. "What-"

            "Let's go somewhere that smells a little less of grease. I have no interest in your laundry bill." Jason climbed on his a second hand Honda with none of its original parts.

            "Did you forget I own a motorcycle? Maybe you are old." Jason saw the smirk curl the corner of Robin’s mouth and barked his own laugh.

            "Mike will keep an eye on it. Someone might run off with it where we're headed and I don’t want a cop to question a minor driving." The scowl was back and Jason preened internally. The kid had no better jibes than two years ago.

            Robin climbed onto the bike behind Jason, balancing his feet on the frame and tentatively putting his arms around Jason's torso. Jason pulled on his helmet and turned the key. The arms tightened minutely when they reached the road.

            It was too loud for conversation as they sped down Olkles Avenue. Jason spent the time being vigilant. There wasn't anyone following them and it was rather unlikely that the kid had any major equipment on him. Either Robin hadn't caught on, or he had the kind of back up that involved the CCTVs.

            Jason grinned at the familiar thrill of danger. He could hear Sandra in the back of his head. _It’s better than drugs, little man._


End file.
